Pendragon Island II
by inukshuk
Summary: The day after the night before. Explicit Merlin/Arthur slash. Rated M, NC17. You have been duly warned.


TITLE: Pendragon Island II

AUTHOR: Inukshuk

SPOILERS: None.

FOR STORY CONTINUITY: Read Pendragon Island first.

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RATING: Contains explicit sexual slash content. Rated M / NC17

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DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Merlin" are the creations and property of Others, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

FEEDBACK: yes please … writers need food. Suggestions, comments constructive criticism always welcome. As ever thank you to everyone who writes. You all are so generous I can never tell you how much it means.

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Pendragon Island II

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Merlin awoke in the middle of the bed. He lay there on his back his body taking on the form of the letter T – arms extended and his legs parallel. By the strength of the sun, he knew it was well into morning but this realization did nothing to make him move. Tardiness was a periodic fault of his because he could take blissful moments like this and revel in them. He had few luxuries in life – sleeping late was one of them – mostly because it was so rare. Now, when the opportunity arose, he relished it. He was warm and comfortable and sleepy and content. Moving slightly, he felt his trousers at his knees and the soreness of his member and then he began remembering.

Arthur.

He pushed his shoulders down and lifted his neck to look around. Arthur was gone. Had he slipped away without waking him? Did he start his day for once with out Merlin and allowed him to sleep in? He felt a momentary burst of gladness and lay back down into the pillows. Perhaps it had been Arthur's indulgent exception to mark Merlin's first time – a knowing understanding that today Merlin would be able to think of nothing else but him and his warm wet mouth and his strong deliberate hands and the sound of his voice whispering, husky and low, encouraging and coaxing him. The memories swirled about him like the musky scent that surrounded him now as he lay in bed – in _his_ bed.

Merlin felt suddenly dizzy. There was a flutter of sensations at his groin and he stayed still, thinking of Arthur and the night before. His body ached; from exertion, from friction, from focused attention on places that seemed to be made of nothing but raw nerves. Merlin had been handled with hands that were strong and knowing; kissed by a mouth that was insistent but capable of tenderness. Merlin had never imagined that it would be like this.

In a few short months, he had gone from a vague yearning for something he could not define to creating a fantasy out of a few moments that had happened on a hunt. They had been trekking through forest, silent and focused. Merlin had been following Arthur from behind and, watchful of his footing, unaware that he had stopped. Merlin hit him full on – flush front against his broad back. Arthur had been immovable and unharmed but it had annoyed him because the disturbance had cost them a deer. With a powerful arm, Arthur took Merlin into the crook of his elbow and easily prevented his struggle to free himself. Arthur lifted him up and Merlin was kept off balance and legs apart, Merlin fell against him and bumped his groin into Arthur's solid hip.

"Pay attention." Arthur had said, his lips so tight against his ear that the sound of his voice – demanding and hard - went straight into the depths of his brain. Then Arthur had let him go – a release that was sudden and dismissive. That moment, that _feeling_ had robbed him of words, air, senses but it had left Merlin with a racing pulse and a light-headed, perverse desire to create another interruption so he could recreate that reaction. He repeated the scene over and over in his head, sculpting a fantasy with Arthur that he knew he would never have. Then – in such close and constant company with Arthur – he began noticing details that he had not expected would arouse him; the tautness of Arthur's muscles, the confident way he stood with his feet apart and his hands on his hips when he addressed his knights, the violent power he had on attack, the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. Merlin had kept his thoughts secret; his moments of awkward self-pleasure hidden in a little-used corner of the Royal Stables.

Then yesterday – Arthur had done badly at jousting. His reaction had been fierce, powerful. Merlin had tried to help but it had only made him angrier. He could still remember the pain as Arthur swatted him away with stinging blows – one hand, then the other – still advancing, enervated and strong. It had been Arthur's eyes – flashing and focused – that had done it. All at once, Merlin was aroused by him and he tried to hide it but Arthur noticed everything.

Then last night, his tame fantasy with Arthur turned into a reality that was beyond his wildest imagination. Arthur – Crown Prince of Camelot – had raked his hands down to tease and had used his hands to fondle and his mouth to … Merlin felt himself grow warm and more enervated at the memory.

"Arthur." He sighed and whispered to no one and imagined him still there. What would Arthur have done if he was still here? Merlin filled in the action with vivid recreations of the previous night – those being his only references - then gradually he moved his hand down, over his stomach and felt … fabric?

He sat up suddenly and drew back the covers. Tied around the base of his penis was that piece of fabric that Arthur had used to contain his emissions. The cloth was white and folded narrowly so that the embroidered small red dragon was displayed at the end. It hung on him like a loin cloth.

Merlin smiled to himself. It was Arthur's amusement; a way of marking this occasion, of saying that this too was property of the Pendragon. Merlin let out a subdued chuckle and traced the outline of the animal. Arthur must have done this while he was still asleep. All at once, he could not imagine being so soundly slumbering to have Arthur handle him like this without his notice. Perhaps he had been truly spent. Perhaps Arthur had such stealth and a touch this deft. He knew his sound sleeping would have made Arthur grin. Merlin settled back into the bed and wondered if Arthur had kissed him goodbye and he wondered where he might have placed the kisses.

Merlin felt no need to get out of bed and – moreover – he knew he would not be able to concentrate on anything else if he did. It was best just to lay back and let the sounds and sensations wash over him like warm waves seeping into sand. Thinking of nothing but the feel of Arthur's hands against his skin, he traced his palms over his chest and then went lower, letting his fingers play at the edges of his groin.

Arthur.

Merlin conjured up his image without effort. All at once he had in his view those brown eyes that were partly obscured by brilliant blonde hair that seemed to reflect golden bursts of light in the sun. Broad shoulders and powerful hips were connected by a hard, muscled chest. He stood there in Merlin's imagination, feet apart and confidently naked and for once, Merlin could stare openly at his mildly aroused state. Arthur had a size and circumference that was almost out of proportion for his body; but it suited him – suited his station in life, his strength and prowess as a soldier and a hunter.

All at once, Merlin wanted him. Here. Now. He wanted Arthur's hands on him again making him feel like the earth's energy was coursing through his veins as he had the night before. He wanted to be fondled and caressed and kissed and be at the very centre of this bed; this apex of Arthur's world and never leave it. He let his hands push into his groin and let the hardening flesh expand against his palms. Another surge of pleasure blossomed at his touch and softly he moaned.

"Merlin?"

Merlin withdrew his hands with a jumpy yelp. He sat up, his heart racing and saw Arthur – the real one, not the one of his imagination - enter the room and close the door behind him. He was dressed in his red leather doublet, leather pants and boots. He must have been riding and had come straight from the stables because he still wore the leather gloves. Arthur blinked, unhurried and heavy lidded and was slightly amused as he walked towards him.

"You _are_ up. I was wondering if we should ever see you at all today."

He arrived at the edge of the bed and sat relaxed, with a foot folded into the crook of the opposite knee.

"How are you? Bit sore?"

"A little."

"I'm sorry about that." He said and it sounded sincere, slightly sheepish. Then he began to smile – teasing and wicked. "Do you want me to kiss it better, Merlin?"

"I … uh …" He was not sure what the right answer was until Arthur began tugging at the edge of the covers. The answer must be yes, he supposed. Arthur did not need to wait for verbal confirmation because Merlin went ahead and exposed himself and in his eagerness missed the opportunity for play.

Arthur laughed quietly, fingering the small piece of fabric. "Merlin. What is this? A wrapped gift? For me? You really shouldn't have."

"I only just woke up. I didn't have time to …"

"We'll take the trousers right off this time, shall we?" He stood up and pulled at the ankles and with a strong yank, removed them entirely. "That's better." The power of the motion made Merlin's member wag and bounce and grow harder.

Arthur remained fully clothed and crawled between Merlin's legs and positioned himself on all fours over him. Then he leaned in, used both hands to brush back Merlin's hair and kissed him – a warm, open-mouthed kiss that made Merlin moan and squeeze up his groin. As Arthur continued to explore Merlin's mouth, he drew a leathered index finger down the length of Merlin's middle – between his nipples and around each one in turn, over his stomach and lower abdomen, then below that and looped and caressed his erection with the crook of his finger.

Merlin stretched, opening his legs further and circled the broad shoulders with both arms, trying to pull him down. Something in him wanted his body flush against Arthur. He wanted to feel the weight of being laid upon and how Arthur would lower himself down in stages and what it must feel like to receive this solid, muscular force upon him and how they would fit against each other. But Arthur saw to it that this distance persisted and it tormented him as Arthur continued stroking him with fine, subtle movements that sent lighting bolts of energy through his groin.

"Don't stop." Merlin whispered, closing his eyes and feeling the intensity of his arousal rapidly peak. It was fast this time – perhaps because he had been longing for Arthur, had been thinking about him and remembering and was already aroused. Perhaps it was because everything about Arthur excited him in a way that he could not contain. With Arthur's unexpected appearance – Merlin was ready, ready once again to be stroked and caressed and mastered. His body was not his own and he surrendered it to Arthur.

Merlin squeezed shut his eyes as he felt the leather hand circle him tightly and begin rubbing him in a rhythmic way. It was too much stimulus too fast and Merlin had not learned any lessons of control. Before Arthur could continue any further – to caress and fondle, to kiss him or lower his mouth to suckle, Merlin groaned in the pleasure of release. It was far too soon and all over before it started. He gasped at the intense shock of his orgasm and the absolute disappointment that it had happened so quickly. There was a momentary pause and then the hands stroked him, not to stimulate but to comfort.

"Merlin. We shall have to teach you how to sustain yourself."

Merlin felt embarrassed, as if he had disappointed not only himself but Arthur as well. Arthur had made a particular effort to return just to see him and provide him this intimate, private pleasure and it had been hardly worth it. It was over in seconds.

"I'm sorry, Arthur."

"It happens." He said, still fondling him gently, using the back of his finger to stroke him as one might the cheek of a sad child to console him and give him reassurance. "Why don't you stay here and get some sleep?" He neatened the tie and arranged the fabric so it was aligned with his shaft once again, then drew over the covers and tucked him in. Merlin did not want Arthur to leave. He wanted to wrap his body around his and let the heat of his body lull him to sleep like it had done the previous night.

Arthur seemed to read his expression. "My father is expecting me at court. There is a delegation to receive and it will be a long day. You are … welcome to stay here … if you like."

Merlin would not have moved from the spot if the very castle had fallen down around him. After Arthur left, he dozed on and off the rest of the day and every time he awoke, he was frustrated to discover it still daylight. Then, about mid afternoon, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When he awoke he yawned and flexed all his muscles like a cat, feeling refreshed and awake. He looked outside and smiled. It was dark. Outside, he could hear approaching footsteps and his smile deepened as the door opened.

After greetings of no consequence, and an inquiry and dismissal of a military delegation that neither were interested in, Arthur took off his gloves, tossed them aside, and asked, "Shall I show you what to do?"

"Yes." Merlin said and the answer thrilled him.

Encouraged, Arthur removed his coat and, instead of throwing it to the floor he took care to drop it over the back of a chair as if out of deference to his servant. Pulling off his boots one at a time, he crossed the floor and stopped at the bedside to remove his tunic, crossing his arms and grabbing at the bottom. His broad chest expanded as he drew the hem up over his head and his blond hair flipped back into place as he separated from the garment. He drew the fabric in front of him and Merlin watched the muscles of his shoulders expand and contract in concert with his motion.

"Move aside," Arthur said, discarding the tunic and crawled onto his bed. He grabbed a couple of pillows one by one and stacked them into place, then sat and leaned back, comfortably seated.

"Come here." He said, inviting him with a patting of the empty spot on the bed between his legs.

Merlin stared at the place on the bed and then at the leather breeches that seemed to be tighter than usual. He crawled over and turned, settling and his flesh sizzling with the touch of Arthur's chest against his back. Arthur kissed his neck, once twice and then gently encircled him, using his wide palms to ease over his flesh, fingers rising and falling in light spidery circles.

"Hands here this time." Arthur took his wrists and tucked them behind him so that his palms were flat against Arthur's stomach. "Now lean back. Very good." He said and Merlin closed his eyes, revelling in the gravely vibration of his voice. The strong arms wrapped around his middle and hugged him then Arthur withdrew letting his hands move here and there, strumming Merlin's flesh with smooth fingertips as if he were a lute. More kisses were laid down along the side of his neck and Merlin tipped his head forward to encourage it. Arthur continued exploring his chest, then lower and lower still until he traced his fingers across the top of the fine hairs of his groin.

"I can't believe you still have this on, Merlin." He said and looped a finger into the fashioned cloth and removed it.

"Don't lose that."

"Heaven forbid. Now pay attention." He said and slipped his hands down the inside of his thighs and back again. His hands were firm and strong and Merlin closed his knees against the motion, making the strokes even stronger. Merlin had no where to go but to lean his head back in a deep sigh. Once, twice … then over and over the hands went down and back – knowing fingers exploring and lingering, teasing and not quite touching. Merlin was hard and Arthur had done almost nothing. A momentary panic set in thinking it would happen again – that he would not be able to last. He squirmed and tried to break free from the spell of Arthur's attentions.

"It's alright, Merlin." Arthur circled him with another calming embrace. "Breathe."

All he could accomplish was shallow gasping and that was not what Arthur had wanted.

"Deeply. Breathe deeply. From here …" Arthur placed a hand over his lower abdomen and let it rest there so he could watch his progress. "Breathe." He repeated and held him still, letting him focus. Merlin sighed and felt himself calm. He took a few breaths and the untamed sensations eased.

Arthur seemed to sense when he had recovered enough to continue and then began anew; running his hands down Merlin's thighs again and this time, retreated upwards and caressed his testicles for a time and then moved his hands around the shaft of his penis. Merlin tried not to move his hips and grunted from the exertion of resisting it. Deliberately, Arthur began fondling him, keeping his fingers tightly wrapped around him and avoiding the tip. The air felt suddenly cool and Merlin knew he had become moist in anticipation. He could think of nothing but of Arthur touching that place – that exquisite electrifying and sensitive place – and then that feeling that only Arthur could create … Merlin grunted again, this time with a feral energy that sprang from inside him. It was not quiet and sounded like frustrated agony – like an anticipation that he could not control.

"Not yet." Arthur said, squeezing the tip and forcing the sensations to subside. Once again, he embraced him in a centring stillness. "Breathe." He whispered.

Merlin concentrated once again. Momentarily, they were motionless except for their breathing. Arthur exhaled with deliberateness, as if he were sustaining an unknown effort. Then Arthur moved again but this time it was not for Merlin. He bent a knee and then opened his legs a little and shifted and adjusted the other knee and finally – almost unwillingly - in a tense, controlled motion he lifted his groin until it pressed tightly into the small of Merlin's back. He eased himself only partway before he pressed again. Arthur's breathing was deep, forced – mastered – yet Merlin – with his hands flat across Arthur's stomach - felt an intense tension of muscle and sinew as he inhaled.

Was he - ? Merlin whispered, curious and wanting to understand what had happened. "Arthur?"

"Yes." He said, "If you want." And began with another series of kisses that felt as if they suppressed a hunger.

Merlin knew he had been misunderstood but he was powerless to stop Arthur's attention on him. The hands began moving again, up and down in rhythm that was harder that before and Merlin groaned, feeling the intensity rise almost immediately. Arthur traced his palm across the tip of him and he nearly cried out from the power of the touch. Another piece of fabric appeared and Arthur circled him and stroked him hard and tight, with a force so strong that Merlin could feel himself begin thumping against the fullness of Arthur's groin. The power of Arthur's caresses made Merlin gasp; he had no endurance or ability to withstand it. Arthur did not stop in time and delivered one more stroke – powerful and selfish - and opened himself up wide to take the brunt of the energy in his groin. Arthur let out an animal grunt that resonated from deep within him – primal and enervated. Merlin's hair stood on end – it was the most amazing sound he had ever heard. It was a growl that became a roar; and more than that … an agony of submitting to not-quite but full of the wild, desperate energy of wanting-to. For long unending moments, Arthur rested his hot forehead on the nape of Merlin's neck and remained still. Merlin froze and listened to him breathe – hard, controlled and deep.

Arthur.

What had made Arthur stop? He was intensely aroused, capable of taking and having whatever he wanted and yet he had subsumed his desires. Merlin knew he had done it for him. All at once, Merlin was overwhelmed with a desire to find Arthur's mouth, to move and trace the outline of the bulge that was still tight against his back and please him the way he had been … he imagined undoing the leather trousers and … he could not finish the thought because Arthur had encircled him again and began stroking him with strong deliberate motions. Merlin felt the earth open up and the energy radiate through him. With a soft gulping cry, Merlin felt his body give way and he came.


End file.
